


Always the Married Ones

by DreamscomeTRUEEE



Category: Actor RPF, Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF
Genre: Bottom Chris Evans, Cheating, I wanted to write smut but this happened instead, Infidelity, Light Angst, M/M, Top Chris Hemsworth, top robert downey jr
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-25
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-03-17 03:40:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18957139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DreamscomeTRUEEE/pseuds/DreamscomeTRUEEE
Summary: Chris didn’t know why he was doing this.It was wrong. It went against his values.But it felt so right.(Alternatively: Chris keeps falling in love with married men)





	1. Downey 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story has infidelity in almost every chapter. If that’s an issue for you, please stop here.

Chris didn’t know why he was doing this.

It was wrong. It went against his values.

But it felt so _right_.

Smiling, he lowered his head and batted his eyelashes almost bashfully at the man seated in front of him.

“What do you want me to do, Downey?”

The man gave him a half-smirk, charismatic, but also revealing a hint of adoration.

“You know how I like you.”

And Chris folded like a deck of cards.

He was on his knees in an instant, and placed his palms on Downey’s - Robert’s knees, edging himself closer between the elder man’s legs. He could feel fingers threading his hair, soothing, encouraging. He took a deep breath and pressed a kiss against the half hard member through the pants. He smiled again.

“Good thing I like being like this for you.” He breathed, “Just for you.”

The fingers tightened against his scalp, and the member hardened even more. Chris bit his lip to stop himself from breaking into a grin.

Oh yes, he definitely knew how to play his cards.

Robert’s voice was even, “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing, you little minx. Now get to work.”

“Yes, _sir_.”

He almost let the little giggle out then, but luckily caught himself. That wouldn't do. He doesn’t want his immaturity to take the sexiness out of the scene.

Things played out naturally after that. Chris gave the man he respected a damn good blowjob, if he may say so himself. And Robert? He never returns the favor.

It hurts, just a little bit.

Then it hurts more, when he’s pulled to the bedroom and fucked brutally into the mattress on his hands and knees like a bitch in heat.

It hurts, but (and it’s so cliche he can’t believe he thinks so) it hurts so good.

It’s okay if he’s never kissed on the mouth. It’s okay if Robert never looks him in the face (unless he’s sucking Robert off - then again he’s pretty sure Robert’s only looking at his plump, pink bottom lip. And maybe his eyelashes).

It’s alright. The man has boundaries.

The man is married.

He chokes then, and buries the cry into his forearm.

What right does he have to be upset? He’s a - a home wrecker.

Except he’s not. At best, a dirty little secret.

“Chris, you good?”

Robert has stopped, and he sounds concerned. He shouldn’t be this kind. It’s not fair.

“Fuck me harder, you old man.” He doesn’t mean it.

“Oh, you crossed a line, Christopher.”

And the game continues.

It goes on and on, because Chris can’t bring himself to withdraw.

It’s not love, it can’t be. That’s just the way it is.

The next morning, he wakes to see Robert looking at him. Probably his eyelashes again. He blinks slowly, partially out of sleepiness and partially because he knows Robert likes it.

“I want to give you another car.”

Chris blinks again, this time out of confusion. “Huh?”

Robert’s smiling. “I can design another one. I like giving you things.”

“Downey, I don’t need another car.” _I need you to love me._

Robert sits up.

“You just hurt me. In the feelings.” He’s still smiling.

Chris gets out of bed and stretches, ignoring the come dripping from his hole and down his thighs.

“I need to shower.”

So he does. If it’s tears running down his cheeks, that’s nobody’s business.


	2. Downey 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was never meant to last.

“Leaving so soon? Always in a hurry, aren’t you?” Robert’s lips were curled in a mock-frown. “And you keep declining my dinner invitations.”

Chris didn’t reply, throwing on one of his 800 sweaters (yes, he knows they all look almost exactly the same, just colored differently. They’re comfortable, alright?) with his back turned.

“Come, give Daddy a kiss.”

Chris rolled his eyes. It’s not like they ever really kissed. A peck on the cheek, or one on the forehead. Bites and sucks on various parts of the body. But never a kiss. It was like an unspoken rule - not on his part, but on Robert’s.

He turned back, leaning down to where Robert was sitting on the bed, and proceeded to purse his lips. “Yes, _Daddy_.” He was going for sarcastic, but if Robert’s reaction was anything to judge by, he had unexpectedly landed sexy.

He was pulled into a kiss too rough for this early in the morning, all tongue and teeth. When they finally parted, he was breathing heavily, still leaning down with his palms on the mattress for support.

_Excuse me? Did they just?_

“I need to go, Downey.” He licked his lips, pushing the little seeds of hope so, so sinful down as far as he could.

Dark brown eyes followed the movement. “No you don’t.”

Why was it always so damn hard to say no to Robert? He wasn’t even really putting effort to persuade him, for God’s sake. He’s literally just sitting there, the smug bastard.

“Oh yeah? And why don’t I?” _Persuade me. Tell me I matter._

“You know the answer to that, Evans.”

“I really don’t.” _Tell me it’s more than sex._

Robert clicked his tongue. Chris couldn’t quite tell if the annoyance was fake or real.

“You’re being persistent today.”

He ventured a grin, hoping that it didn’t come off as tired as he felt. “So I am. Tell me, Downey. Why are you so certain I don’t need to go right now?” _Damn it, Robert. How hard is it to sweeten me like you sweeten everybody else? No one’s asking you to actually mean it. Say the words and I’ll lie down right now._

Except Robert wasn’t looking at him anymore. He was looking at his phone, and had begun to type. Chris didn’t even need to guess who it was. Without looking back up, Robert sighed. “You know what, Evans, you were right. You should go.”

Chris straightened and took a step back.

_Of course I’m right._

“Goodbye, Robert.”

Robert stopped typing, seeming to register the change in Chris’ tone. Their eyes met.

“I’ll see you on set.”

“Yes. But we’re done.”

“Chris?”

“You’re not really my sugar daddy, Robert. We’re done. We’re both better off and happier this way.”

Robert stood up and closed the distance between them.

“Are you?” His voice was gentle, careful.

Chris nodded stiffly.

Large palms cupped his face, and fingers stroked under his eyes.

“Then why are you crying?”

 _Shit_.

Chris recoiled like he had been hit. “I- I just- I mean-“ He shook his head, _come on, Chris! Breathe._

“Come on, Downey. You know me, always sentimental. I’ve always been a cryer- remember when- ”

“I’m sorry.”

“What?”

“It’s my fault. This never should have happened. I shouldn’t have indulged, and I’m so sorry.”

Never should have happened.

_I mean, duh. Doesn’t mean it hurts less._

“It’s not your fault. Don’t you dare-“ _Don’t you dare say that my love for you had no part in this._

“-Don’t you dare take the blame for my mistake, Evans.” Robert calmly cut him off.

“I **am** the mistake!” He wanted to punch something. He wanted to-

Suddenly he was embraced, and he hugged back as hard as he could. Oh. This was what he wanted.

Robert was murmuring against his ear.

“Shhh. It’s okay.”

He buried his face into the other man’s shoulder.

 _Shhh_.

Minutes ticked away with them holding each other, but then Robert shifted.

“I hate to say this, Evans. But you really need to go.”

Chris let go.

“I do.”

He smiled. “Thank you, Robert. And for the record, I’m sorry too.”

Robert looked like he wanted to argue, but thought better of it.

“I’ll see you on set.”

“Yes.”

“Goodbye, Robert.”

“Goodbye, Chris.”

He stepped out of the trailer.

It’s okay. It’ll take time, but he’ll be okay.


	3. Hemsworth 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They click so well they get separated intentionally. 
> 
> It’s never been fair; they found each other too late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long... when I started the chapter it was Chris’ birthday, when I finished it was Steve’s. Thank you to everyone who commented and gave me Kudos! It really does give me the boost I need.

“Hemmy- oh god- _Hemmy-“_

Chris was mewling, his ankles locked behind Hemsworth’s muscular back. His body rocked with each powerful thrust, and he could hear the bed creaking. The heat was building so, so fast.

“Hemmy I’m so close-“

A deep chuckle. Deep, throaty, delicious, downright sinful like everything Hemsworth does.

“So soon?”

“Shut up-“ Cheeks aflame, he resorted to biting down hard on the man’s right shoulder. The response he received was an unbothered grunt. Nothing ever phases Hemmy. He bit down harder, then sucks on the spot.

_Wonder if Elsa has seen my marks._

It was a guilty thought, short and fleeting. He spared a glance at the slowly forming bruise, and kissed it.

Then Hemsworth angles just right and the thought leaves him. “Oh!”

“Gotcha.” Attractive. Smug. Like Downey.

No. Not like Downey. Rougher. Less constrained.

“Ain’t got me unless you fuck me harder and bring me to the brink of death.”

The blonde complies, and Downey left his head as fast as Elsa had.

It confuses him only a little how well Hemsworth knows his body. They haven’t been together that many times, but Hemsworth and him had always clicked super well and communicated without words. He whines, and Hemsworth immediately captures his lips with his own. They kiss with hunger and passion, and he feels like he’s 25 again, unabashedly in love and unafraid to fall.

They break apart for breath, and Hemmy breathes against him, “Come with me, babe.”

He’s not even ashamed that it happened by command.

A little death.

* * *

An hour later finds both of them in comfy bathrobes, Chris drowsing in the softness.

“Happy belated birthday, babe.”

Chris snorts. “You’re a week late.” He wasn’t even mad. They both had lives. “It’s fine - I saw the video.” He grins, “Thanks for the birthday song.” Then he pouts, “Wish you had sung it to me instead of Cap though. It’s not Steve’s birthday. It’s mine.”

He feels himself enveloped in more bathrobe and more Hemworth, and it’s so soft he wants to just nestle in and forget about the world.

He wants to say something. He’s feeling loved and huggy.

“I want to be a Hemsworth,” he says instead.

The arms wrap around him tighter.

“You can be a Hemsworth. Be my kid.” This again. What was it that made Hemmy want to adopt him?

He’s still pouting. “Not like that and you know it.”

Hemsworth chuckles, and he feels it rumble against his back.

Chris must be feeling heady, the next thing he blurts is “I want a kid.” Hemsworth chuckles again, like it’s expected. “Of course you do.”

“I want a kid with you.”

There was a brief pause, then the warmth leaves him.

“Chris,” Hemsworth says, slow and careful, “I have kids.”

He wants to say he adores the kids, but with his head clearing and the room starting to feel chilly he knows he’s unworthy. He throws his head back and laughs instead, hoping it doesn’t sound as forced as it feels. “And I have Dodger. Cuddle with me, it’s cold.”

The other man does not. Instead he turns Chris over and holds his face in his palm, “Chris, baby, you know I love you.”

The unspoken but rings through the room.

Chris nuzzles into the touch. “I know.”

He doesn’t say it back. Doesn’t have to.

It’s never been fair. They found each other too late. Hitting it off immediately after they were introduced to each other, before the Avengers was even filmed, they had spent the entire evening engrossed in conversation until suddenly it was 7 in the morning. They bonded quickly as Chris Evans and Chris Hemsworth. They fit each other as well as the shield fit Steve and Mjolnir fit Thor. It was like pieces of a puzzle.

It felt right.

But it couldn’t have been - because Hemsworth was taken. Happily taken.

It wasn’t fair, but it was what it was.

Yet still they were drawn to each other like magnets, like moths to a flame.

Chris knew that the attraction was mutual, felt it in his gut. Saw it in the twinkle in Hemsworth’s eyes when their eyes meet, in how Hemsworth tries to make him laugh, in the gentle but firm way he grips his wrist, in the affectionate banter, in the supportive reassurance every time he put himself down.

They click so well they get intentionally separated for the Endgame tour. He wonders how obvious their attraction to each other is to their friends. Family.

He didn’t want to come between the other man’s marriage, but it was so hard to stay away. They could have not met each other for months and the moment they see each other they click back and the fire rekindles.

Occasionally they let it burn. And it is glorious.

Glorious, but always short-lived. Elsa and the kids were family, and what was Chris?

So what if they love each other? Their love was not enough.

Then Chris had started falling for his mentor Robert, who ironically was also married.

Started an affair. Ended it, getting his heart broken in the process.

And here he was, back to Hemsworth.

It wasn’t fair.

“I know,” Chris repeats. And kisses Hemsworth on the mouth.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments/Kudos give me life


End file.
